


Picking Fights

by Lokisgame



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokisgame/pseuds/Lokisgame
Summary: Nothing made Scully move faster than the sight of blood.





	1. Chapter 1

Nothing made Scully move faster than the sight of blood. She jumped out of her chair and was reaching for him, before he even looked up, to see if she was there.  
"Oh God, Mulder!"  
Beyond words, her hands did the talking, pulling at his sleeves, dragging him to the chair, pushing to sit down. For a tiny little thing, she was pretty bossy when she saw blood. But she was, after all, a doctor.  
"I'm fine," he said, but it came out more like amafumph.  
"What happened?"  
They fumbled around, her fingers struggling to get through to his face, while he tried to lean forward and keep the pressure on. It was a regular war, just adding to all the annoyance he brought with himself.  
"Will you stop it?" He barked, almost intelligibly, pushing her hands away.  
Scully didn't flinch, but stopped clawing at his hands, a dangerous crease carved between her eyebrows.  
"Will you talk to me?"  
"Give me a minute."  
He matched her scowl and she backed off, reluctantly, kneeling on the floor with hands folded in her lap, refusing to let him out of her sight. So, they looked at each other, playing this odd game of chicken that, oddly enough, made the silence easier. Minutes passed, frustration simmering down into plain ache and concern.  
"If I let go, it'll start bleeding again." Mulder mumbled by way of apology and she smiled a little. "I don't think it's broken, though."  
"You'd be in a lot more pain, if it was." Scully rubbed his knee lightly, testing the ground.  
"Oh, it hurts alright."  
"What was it?"  
"A door." Her smile widened.  
"Did you fight back?"  
"Very funny."  
Moving closer, she tried again, this time, hands pausing three inches from his face.  
"May I?"  
Mulder nodded gingerly and let go of his noggin, letting her take over.  
One finger under his chin, Scully lifted his face gently and wiped at his nose, examining the damage. He hissed when she touched it.  
"It's not that bad," she said, but regret it almost instantly. Tissues still in hand, she pulled him forward and pinched his nose shut, just below the bone. Fresh tears wells in his eyes. "Nope, you're still bleeding."  
Scully sighed and her warm breath washed over his face, making him realise, how close she really was. Cool fingers played at the nape of his neck, so gently that she probably didn't even notice, or that her her lips were half an inch away from his skin. And she sure as hell didn't know, that he was staring straight down her neckline, all the way to her peach pink bra. It was too much.  
"Scully," he mumbled, keeping his head down, "I got this."  
"You sure?"  
She shifted, trying to look at him, without making him look up, taking the view with her, as she sat back on her heels, closer this time. He covered her hand and nodded lightly, switching.  
Back to where they started, they sat like this for another long while, her on the floor, looking up, him, leaning down, waiting for bleeding to stop. Neither of them moving, all business pushed aside.  
It was Scully's turn to look away this time.  
"Was that how it was?"  
"What?"  
"For you, when I was," she paused, "the helplessness."  
Realising what she meant, Mulder brushed her cheek, bringing her gaze back as he took the tissues away.  
"I'm fine, Scully," he said, nosebleed gone. "It was an accident, someone hit me with a door, nothing more."  
"I know."  
She nodded and got up, both of them somehow managing to avoid each other's stares.  
"I should go, clean up." Mulder said quietly, heading for the restrooms, giving her her space. 

The envelope with his test results ended up in the trash.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mulder?" She knocked lightly on the restroom door. He didn't come back after a few minutes and she got worried, he might have collapsed on the floor. "Is everything okay?"  
No one answered, so she pushed the door, first two inches, then six.  
"Mulder?" Nobody inside.  
She went in, just to check twice, glanced at the trashcan, a reflex, blood-stained tissues would say if he even was there. She found them, under a thick envelope, still sealed, with his name along the most dreadful word in her vocabulary. Oncology.  
She didn't think, didn't stop to think about thinking. Shaking hands tore at the paper, as white as her face. Heart in her throat, she scanned the first page and ran out of the bathroom, as if every second mattered. 

He wasn't in the office when she grabbed her coat, or when she doubled back for her phone. He wasn't in the corridor or in the lobby.  
"Agent Scully?" Mike from the security looked up at her from his spot behind the desk, puzzled by her alarmed expression.  
"Hi, have you seen Agent Mulder?" She panted, trying to control the nausea, clenching the latter in one, sweaty hand.  
"He left a few minutes ago, why?"  
"Which way did he go."  
"Left, I think, I didn't stop him."  
"Can you check on the outside cameras?"  
"Why?" But her face told him, he already asked too many questions.  
Scully rounded the station and glanced at the monitors. Two cameras monitored the area up and down the street. Mike rewound the tapes in a parody of day-to-day activities, until a familiar coat swung into view, walking backwards from the direction of the little green square a few blocks down from the Hoover Building.  
"There, that's him," she pointed at the screen and ran out, without as much as a thanks.  
Mike shook his head, going back to his coffee and doughnut, muttering under his breath. "Spookies." 

She ran, as fast as her sensible heels would let her. It was a hunch, an educated guess, there was a cafe in that square, where he usually bought pastries and coffee, usually for her. There was a quiet bench they shared, as well. She ran faster.  
_"Jesus Mulder,"_ she thought, slaloming through late morning crowd, _"how could you."_  
Her eyes stung, breath burned her lungs. Late March sun was a treacherous one, she could feel cold air, burning her throat raw, like ice, but she ran, afraid if she stopped, she might collapse into sobs.  
The little market square opened in front of her and there it was, beneath a tree, a bench dotted with specks of sunshine. A dark figure hunched in it, like a black hole, absence of hope and light. She slowed down to a mere jog. Head in his hands, elbows on knees, Mulder wasn't going anywhere, she knew it, felt it.  
Nine yards away, her jog slowed down to a walk, he twitched, let go, looked up and around. Five steps away, he gave her a fake smile. Red nose, red eyes, tearstained face.  
"Hi," he sighed, barely keeping it together.  
She didn't speak, just sat beside him, ignoring the blush and the sweat and the shaking. Holding his gaze, greener in the soft shadows of new leaves.  
"I'm okay, I just needed a little fresh air." He said, looking away, leaning back on the bench, hands clasped in his lap, keeping up the charade.  
"When were you planning to tell me." She asked, gently, steely.  
"About what?" He still would not look at her.  
"About this." She showed him the papers, now crumpled with worry.  
Silence.  
Mulder flexed his fingers, palms closing around each other, then doubled over. Hiding, from her, from the world, from light itself.  
"I," he choked, and she noticed a fresh drop of blood land on his hand. He reached for a tissue but she was already there, pulling him closer, pinching his nose shut once again.  
"You weren't going to tell me." She spoke for him, watching the shadows of lashes play on his cheeks. "You thought you could chose this battle for me, that we'd go on, as if nothing happened. Ignorance is bliss, is that what you thought?" Anger bled through into her tone, like red staining the cloth.  
Mulder didn't look up or move, silent tears rolled down his cheeks and she just couldn't bare to watch. Drawing him closer, she put her free arm around him. Somewhere around her hips, hands anchored her to him, him to her. If his hands could speak, they would scream, _"forgive me."_  
"You thought, you'd spare me the pain of watching you fade, fighting a battle doomed to fail. The helplessness?"  
A sob shook his shoulders, fists clenched and tugged at her blazer. He nodded. She didn't try to stop the tears, her makeup was ruined and she didn't give a shit.  
"You're an idiot." She whispered, pulling him closer still, lips at his ear. "You're not sick."  
Mulder froze, then tried to look up, but she pinched his nose and he hissed. Maybe she did it a little too tight, petty, but he earned that.  
"You didn't even read the results," she kept him close, feeling the grip he had on her, change. "You ignored the facts, Agent Mulder."  
She kept talking as he drew her in, scooting closer, arms sneaking around her waist. "Your red blood cell count is a little low, and your cholesterol is way too high, but the biopsy showed no abnormalities, so basically, your diet sucks." Finishing, she pressed her lips to the closest part of him she could find, tip off his ear. "You're not going to die."  
Mulder looked up, freeing himself from the hand on his nose, bleeding stopped.  
"I'm sorry." He mumbled, still teary eyed and incredulous.  
"Not good enough," she said, but not without a hint of a smile.  
Drawing her close, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, his hand rested on the nape of her neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, eyes falling shut, his, hers.  
"Not good enough," she breathed and his lips touched hers. He tasted like blood and tears and life itself. It was disgusting, but she didn't care. She kissed him back.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt on Tumblr - Mulder shows up at the office with a bleeding nose and Scully handles the situation


End file.
